


Hot/Cold

by TheOtherCourse (kanevixen)



Series: Tom and Abigail Series [39]
Category: Actor RPF, British Actor RPF, Real Person Fiction, Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: Clothed Sex, Clothing, Clothing Kink, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Kitchen Sex, Sex, Smut, Tea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-19
Updated: 2015-11-19
Packaged: 2018-05-02 07:59:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5240705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kanevixen/pseuds/TheOtherCourse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by the blue t-shirt of sex that Tom wore for the Coriolanus rehearsals. His girlfriend Abigail really likes the look of her boyfriend in that t-shirt and shares her appreciation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hot/Cold

**Author's Note:**

> This is the picture that inspired this one shot  
> 

Flicking the button for the black electric kettle, I double checked that the red light sparked to life with the hiss of heat. The calming, smoothing, reassuring unobtrusive white noise of the kettle warming the water inside became a welcome addition to my afternoon. It meant that Tom would be back from rehearsal soon, and our Friday night could begin.

We started the tradition of spending Friday nights together while he was away in Detroit filming Only Lovers Left Alive. The six hour time difference between London and Michigan was difficult on maintaining contact during the week, relying on texts and emails to keep up with our day to day. Tom had an hour dinner break starting at 18:00pm every night, and I made the effort of being home, awake so we could spend an hour on Skype together.

His shooting schedule was all over the place, day shoots, night shoots, and anything went, so that hour on Fridays was the only thing we could commit to on a regular basis. When he returned from the three months away, the tradition lived on as date night. Because Tom loved going to the cinema to see the newest trailers and films in the theatre, we usually went directly following my evening performance of the play I was in.

As I was pulling mugs from the cupboard and the milk from the refrigerator, Tom arrived, dropping his shoulder bag and keys on the foyer table. To let him know where I was, I called out, “Babe!”

The kettle bubbled, gurgled, sputtered before the button clicked off, indicating the water had boiled and gotten to the hottest temperature. Spooning the sugar and dropping the teabags into the bottom of the mug, my boyfriend circled his arms around my waist, situating himself along my back. He kissed me on the cheek, greeting me after his full day away. “My beautiful Abby.”

“Tea, babe?” He mumbled a small sound of assent as he breathed in my scent. “How was rehearsal?” I poured the steaming water into the mugs, doing my best to ignore his enticing nips along my neck. He was growing his goatee back in and the whiskers were too sexy, brushing along my skin. Using a spoon from the drawer, I stirred the darkening liquid, brewing stronger tea for the two of us.

“I got to play with a sword.”

“I’m sure that stroked your ego, your testosterone, and your masculinity, yeah?”

Chuckling lowly in my ear, he gently bit the fleshy part of my ear. “Felt good since I haven’t handled one since Henry.”

“So little use for a blade nowadays. Do you want to have dinner here or on the way to the cinema?” I fished the teabags from the water, dunking them on a dish to the side, and stirred milk into my mug.

“Too wound up… don’t want to cook tonight. I’ll take my girl out.”

“When she getting here?”

He pinched my arse and growled, “Minx.”

“You’re home early. I have a date with Richard Hammond at half past.” In Abby world, Richard Hammond from Top Gear was madly in love with me, having never met me, but courting me when episodes aired. Tom learned the truth early on in our relationship, about a year and a half ago.

I squeaked softly as he spun me around in his arms so I was facing him. His blue eyes roamed my face, seducing me in his silent way. He smashed his lips to mine, passionately kissing me in a sloppy way. My hands landed on his shoulders, holding him against me, dissolving into his embrace, relenting to the insistence. The scrape of his facial hair on my lips was heavenly, even if on the rough side. When he pulled away again, his look was predatory and possessive. He reminded me in a warning, “It’s Friday, my date night with you. Your telly boyfriend, the Hamster, will have to flirt with you on another day. Why are you still indulging him?”

“Keeping my options open…” In avoiding his gaze, I took in what he was wearing. The soft cotton t-shirt was light blue in color and hugged his body like a second skin. The material showed off all the contours of his muscles, lean, sinewy, taut and gorgeous. His nipples poked out and drew my attention, grabbing me by the throat and didn’t let go. My palms ached and itched to touch, and so I did.

My hands ran over the soft cotton, mesmerized by the feel of soft over hard muscles underneath. He was, in a word, breathtaking and I was stunned nearly speechless. Nearly.

“Is this painted on?” I asked airily.

Tom huffed a small laugh that was more air than sound, a perfect combination of a scoff and giggle. The tiny sound awakened my very pores to the awareness of him, and I wanted nothing but him. I stared at his chest, my focus completely stolen by the mold of that t-shirt to his torso.

The bastard knew! He knew exactly what he was doing when he donned this piece of clothing. Smiling over his pride, he said, “I had it applied this morning on the way to the studio.”

Tearing my eyes from him with great effort, I looked up at him with adoration. I traced the lines of his torso, the t-shirt giving so little under my assault. Sliding my hands down and around his waist, I held the bulk of him to me. “You are an Adonis,” I complimented breathlessly.

“I’m overjoyed that you approve, love.”

“Tom?” He made another sound in the back of his throat, encouraging me to continue. “Fuck me. I desperately need to feel you.”

My re-blooded boyfriend, the virile and masculine man with the healthy appreciation for sex and any type of physical activity with me needed nothing more than my request. His mouth swallowed any further command as he occupied mine, in a scorching meld. He pressed me back against the counter, affixing his body to mine. I hiked one leg up around his waist, anchoring him to me with the force of my desire to be as close as possible to him.

I brushed my pelvis against him wantonly seeking the response I usually get from him. I could feel his hardening length against me, and that only spurned me on. My hands met the heated skin of his back under the shirt responsible for all of this, and I dug my blunt nails in urging him on. He hooked his fingers into my yoga pants, and with a mighty tug pulled my pants and knickers free of my hips. I shimmied and stepped out of the clothing before jumping into his arms.

My legs wound around his waist in a grip that wouldn’t let me fall down again. Tom lowered me to the floor, his lips, tongue and teeth fully engaged with mine. I could feel the delicious burn of his goatee molesting my skin and I only wanted more. As he laid me on the floor, he pushed his black sweatpants down just enough to free his cock.

“Oh, Tom… fuck me. I ache for you.”

As he bit my neck with the hunger of our unexpected tryst in his kitchen, he asked breathlessly, “Are you wet for me, Abby?” He thrust his rock hard erection against my center, pushing a loud sigh from my throat. He could feel the evidence of my arousal with the movement.

I whimpered a begging plea for him as my legs pinched him to me, closer. “Nneeeed you… please.”

His hand positioned at my wet heat, and buried his full length all the way in as far as he could go. We both gasped at the sensation of it, I was impossibly stretched around him. “Fuck, Abby… so tight.”

Splaying my hands along his lower back, I tried to move beneath him, pursuing that friction. Tom withdrew and pushed back in swiftly. “Oh God!” He repeated the motion, snapping his middle to mine. My leg entwined around his waist worked in synch with his, finding a rhythm. “Har- der“ I gasped against his thrusts, demanding more. “Need- har-der”

Tom complied quickly pounding me into the floor, his face buried between my breasts. His breath was harsh against the tender flesh, his goatee scratching sensuously.

My response to Tom was always responsive and my climax was not far away after laying eyes on that blue t-shirt that he still wore. Suddenly my body dissolved into spasms of orgasm, my throat releasing unintelligible sounds of euphoria. My lover continued to plunder my depths until he found his release not long after me.

We laid tangled on the floor catching our breath, our bodies still fitted together. All at once after we’d calmed, we laughed together, finding glee in the situation. How ridiculous that we got so hungry for each other we couldn’t make it to the sofa across the hallway or the bedroom at the end of the hallway. We couldn’t even get completely undressed before we had to have each other, and we’d always been like that.

“I think I need to wear this t-shirt more often.”

“I may never let you leave your flat again, if you keep wearing it.”

We untangled, and Tom helped me to my feet. I replaced my clothing, as he set his set his to rights as well. I turned back to the forgotten and abandoned tea. I touched the side of the mugs to test the temperature. “Bugger! It’s gone stone-cold.”


End file.
